


They Burn So Bright

by kayura_sanada



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur's Got It Bad, Fluff, M/M, Short Story, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:16:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayura_sanada/pseuds/kayura_sanada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three instances in which Merlin's soul burns in his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This basically happened because I'm tired of the constant tension in my longer story, These Breaths We Breathe. I needed some fluff.

Disclaimer: Merlin is not mine. It's owned by BBC. The title is derived from Imagine Dragons' "All Eyes."

Summary: The three instances in which Merlin's soul burns in his eyes.

* * *

They Burn So Bright

Part One

* * *

Arthur awoke lazily, as he always did when Merlin didn't throw the curtains wide and proclaim it time for Arthur to 'rise and shine.' The covers wrapped warmly around him, and for a moment, he considered just snuggling back down and letting the morning whittle itself away. But while his usual bed partner might do just that, he was king, and he couldn't afford to be so lazy. Trying not to grumble like a petulant child, he stretched until his spine curved, then let his hand fall across the bed.

The empty bed.

His eyes snapped open, but he relaxed almost immediately. Of course Merlin had gotten up and let Arthur sleep in, as usual. He watched as Merlin carefully poured another bucket of water into his bath, even though the idiot could have just filled it with less than a flick of his fingers. Of course Merlin was cautious, even now - at least as cautious as he was capable of being. The fool put the bucket down and dipped one hand into the water. Merlin frowned, clearly not impressed with the temperature. Not like the man could possibly have managed to keep it warm as he raced up and down the stairs. It usually took several servants to make certain such a thing happened.

But Merlin didn't need that, and he wouldn't let anyone into Arthur's rooms while he slept, anyway. That was also part of who he was. So it came as no surprise when he leaned slightly over the bath water and said, with little more than a whisper,  _"_ _Onhaetan þé waeter."_   His eyes flashed liquid gold. After all this time, Arthur no longer reacted with a warring mix of fear and desire. Now there was no confusion within him.

In just one moment, steam slowly rose from the water.

Merlin turned, possibly to go to those blasted curtains, perhaps to go get Arthur's breakfast. But he caught Arthur looking and stopped. For an instant, those blue eyes blinked, fawnlike, at him. Then he grinned. "Good morning, Arthur."

The man could make those words sound like homecoming. Arthur sent his own smile back at him. "You're up early. Anything I need to be worried about?"

Merlin frowned nearly into a scowl. "That was only the once."

"And yet that's about how often I see you awake before me." In fact, waking up to find Merlin fighting off an assassin in his rooms had been terrifying. Arthur even had nightmares about it, about sleeping through Merlin's death right beside him. Of what might have happened if Merlin wasn't paranoid enough to put wards around them to ensure no one caught them together, simply because Arthur, back then, had felt it too early for his people to learn just who he intended to be with. He dreamed of Merlin being killed simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time – by Arthur's side. Of course, now Merlin always warded their damn bed, even though his people knew. Arthur couldn't even argue about it.

"I'm always awake before you," Merlin said, and moved right over to the curtains to pull them open, as if to prove his point.

"I usually wake up in time to watch you snuffle in your sleep." Arthur grinned at the affronted look on Merlin's face.

"I do not snuffle!"

Finally he rolled his eyes and sat up in his bed. The covers fell away from his chest to pool around his lap. He caught Merlin's gaze as it darted down despite himself, his pupils dilating slightly. Arthur's grin turned a bit more devious. "Of course you do,  _Mer_ lin. You did it just the other night."

Merlin wrinkled his nose and lifted his chin. "I did not."

For once, Arthur wasn't just pulling Merlin's leg. He really did snuffle. Like a baby bear. And it was adorable. Which was not a word a king of Camelot would ever, ever say.

He stood and stretched again. His pants rode low on his hips, and when he stopped, he caught Merlin looking again. It served Merlin right, not even waking him up for a kiss. Merlin could suffer with his morning wood. "Do you have my clothes ready?"

Merlin nodded, his eyes a bit too glazed. Arthur would have been willing to bet Merlin hadn't heard a word he'd said, but as always, the man managed to surprise him, gesturing stupidly toward the screen. A pair of pants and his red shirt lay across the top. Arthur looked at the red shirt and smirked. So Merlin had been thinking along the same lines as Arthur when he'd awoken. It was a poorly-disguised secret that Merlin very much liked how Arthur looked in that shirt.

Which begged the question as to why Merlin hadn't woken him up for anything. He sent Merlin a look, his eyebrow climbing as he went to the bath. Only because, if he stayed out, he just might be late for practice with his knights. Like hell he was going to get a new notch in his belt.

"So? What got you up, if it wasn't... anything important?" He shucked off his breeches and dipped himself into the bath. Of course it was the perfect temperature. It was too bad he couldn't stay and soak.

He was certain Merlin had heard his verbal stumble, but he didn't say anything. He'd underestimated, years before, Merlin's ability to keep quiet about the things that truly mattered. Not anymore. So he was unsurprised when Merlin didn't even hesitate, but merely said, "I'm nervous about today."

Of course he was. Even as Arthur scoffed out loud, he understood. While Arthur felt the butterflies that meant he was facing a battle he had to win, Merlin must have been feeling something much worse. "I handled the outing of our relationship just fine. This will be no different."

Merlin snorted as if Arthur had made some sort of joke. "'Handled?' You just threw it out in the middle of council and told your members to deal with it!"

"And it went perfectly," he said, taking the roll of soap from Merlin's hand and quickly working it over his skin. He cast a look over his shoulder to find Merlin's gaze flickering down into the water, toward the line of his chest, then further. His grin widened.

Merlin pretended to clean while Arthur washed himself, then stopped and returned to him when he dipped his head under the water, wetting his hair. Those long, slim fingers sifted into his hair, deftly calling the soap from the edge of the tub without touching the thing. Arthur sighed at the move, but didn't argue. Likely Merlin had once again failed to even notice himself doing it. Merlin worked the soap into his hair, and he decided to just enjoy the touch.

Of course, he ended up cutting it short, though it made both himself and Merlin frown. This day, more than others, he needed to make sure he did everything as he should, and not later. Merlin didn't argue. As usual, when it came to Arthur's decisions, his edicts as king, Merlin may complain, but he never contested. He sent Merlin a look to make sure the man was all right before he continued behind the screen to get dressed. He heard Merlin move around some more and wondered if he was just going to make the water disappear like he had a few mornings before. He peeked out, surprised to see Merlin heading, not toward the tub, but instead toward the hearth. The fire had fallen to embers over the night, and the coolness in the room could certainly be felt now that Arthur was still slightly wet from the bath. Of course that meant Merlin would head over to warm the room.

Arthur eased out from behind the screen and watched as Merlin knelt before the ashes of the fireplace. The logs from the night before were black from the evening's fire. Merlin moved for a moment to grab one – just one – off the small pile beside the hearth. After putting the thing on the ash from the night before – lazy idiot – he lifted his chin and whispered something. By now, Arthur knew enough to know the word:  _bryne_.

Once again, with the windows open this time, heedless of anyone who might come waltzing in through the door, those eyes flashed golden. The light seemed to be what sparked the fire in the grate, and not the magic that almost swirled around Merlin when he spoke such words. It made him look like more than just the bumbling manservant tripping over his own shoes. His thin face, large, wide eyes – even the giant ears – it all turned lithe. Fae. He looked like some mythical creature. He belonged in the forest, or a flowering meadow, with some creature – and here he thought of the unicorn and its ethereal beauty – standing beside him.

It was too girly a thought to ever be spoken. He contented himself with walking up to Merlin and interrupting the man's wide-eyed stare to pull his face up and kiss those fae lips. If no other creature was available, then the nuzzling of a king would have to suffice.


	2. Chapter 2

The training went well, though Arthur had to call it off when he started sweating enough to make his bath a waste of time. Merlin stood ready, a cloth in his hands, his eyes bright. Blue, however, and clearly dilated. Arthur flexed his muscles and watched Merlin's gaze turn nearly black. He licked and cleared his throat. "Arthur," Merlin said, his voice still raspy. He had to clear it once more before he could sound like he wasn't gargling sand. "You'll have to change before you meet the delegation."

Which was obvious, since his shirt was plastered to his back. Merlin conjured him a small basin of water the moment they were back in the room. He moved to clean the worst of his own sweat off before he threw on different clothing, sadly giving up his red shirt. It wouldn't be good to make Merlin even more... distressed... than he already was. He cast his manservant a smirk when he was clothed again. Merlin stared at his chest, newly garbed once more. "Merlin. Do attempt to focus."

The man just blinked. "Uh? Right." For some reason, Merlin felt it necessary to clear his throat again, even though his voice was working just fine. Perhaps he was thinking about certain activities to do with it.

Just like that, Arthur was having some problems with his trousers. He scowled.

"Right! Let's get going, then, shall we? You'll be a little early, but I guess that'll just be a nice change of pace, right?" Merlin said, taking his usual place behind Arthur.

"Merlin, the king is always right on time, and his subjects are  _supposed_  to arrive earlier than him." After a short beat, during which Merlin hummed unconvincingly, he said, "also, if I ever were to be late, it would be entirely your fault."

Merlin sent him an appalled stare as he opened the door for Arthur. He smirked as he passed into the hallway.

The walk was uneventful. The throne room, when they arrived, was filled to the brim with Camelot's people, to whom Arthur had demanded the doors be opened. In front of them, closer to the throne, were the nobles, looking furious to be in the room with the common masses. And before  _them_  stood the council members, each and every one of them dressed in their black robes, looking more like druids than those who waited, guarded by Gwaine, Elyan, Leon, and Percival, by the thrones. Merlin squirmed when Arthur stood beside the entrance, purposefully waiting for Merlin to take his rightful place by Arthur's side, ignoring his clear reticence. This was something Arthur would not do without his spouse by his side. Merlin's ridiculous demands to still be Arthur's servant had to take a backseat to what the kingdom - and Arthur - needed.

If only Arthur had managed to get him into something a little less...  _servant-ish_ , that also would have been nice. Maybe Merlin would learn his lesson and just accept his new status, now that he had to sit by Arthur's side, on a throne, in something equivalent to rags. It was his own fault. How many times had Arthur told him to at least update his wardrobe?

Merlin was actually shaking when he took his place beside Arthur. He always refused to take his position at Arthur's side. Perhaps Arthur should have done this just outside instead of within, where everyone would see if he turned to offer Merlin comfort. Just as thought that, Merlin lifted his chin and whispered, "I'll get you back for this."

Arthur smirked. "Threatening the king is treason, Merlin."

Merlin sniffed. "Good to know the title I now carry doesn't change anything."

"Of course it doesn't," Arthur said, daring to lead Merlin forward. The idiot didn't try to hide behind him again. Good. At least Merlin understood how important image was. "All it means is you have to sit somewhere new and have more people stare at you. Oh. And you need to smile more." Of course, that last bit was likely impossible for Merlin at the moment. Though he was clearly doing his best to hide it, it was obvious he was concerned. With Merlin so close to him, he could even see how the idiot trembled. Yes, Arthur definitely should have done this outside the room, and never mind the high chance of Merlin backing out the instant they stepped through the door. It would take half of Arthur's attention to ensure his husband wasn't eaten alive by the vultures standing before their thrones.

The council twitched as Arthur took his seat, and then Merlin. They glanced at Merlin again and again, even as Arthur addressed them. "Have you brought the treaty agreement?"

The members did a little more shifting. Arthur outright glowered at them. He'd kept many of his father's men on the council, more to show he was willing to listen to the ideas of tradition, even if he usually ended up ignoring any advice they tried to give him. But if they even attempted to destroy what Arthur had worked on for the past five months, he would tear their tongues from their throats.

It seemed they recognized that, because they bowed – several of them turning their gazes to Merlin again, until Arthur was close to snapping at them, anyway – and said, "yes, Your Highness."

He lifted his chin. "Bring it to my knights."

Three of the council members went to carry the scroll up to the edge of the dais, one man carrying and two others moving along behind him. Gwaine walked forward to take the scroll before they could get anywhere close to the druids, who stared wide-eyed at the men like they might pull daggers on them. Which they might have, if they didn't likely assume the druids would immediately set fire to their skin or some other ridiculous notion.

It was when Gwaine took hold of the scroll and the members stepped down that one of the nobles shouted. Arthur barely heard the words of "sorcerer scum!" before he saw the man pull out his sword and rush past the council members – who made no attempt to stop him.

Arthur jumped up from his seat. He still had his sword at his side from having trained with his knights, and he pulled it quickly from its sheath. By then, Leon had already moved to match the man's pace. Their swords clanged against one another. Gwaine and Percival backed the druids away from the battle.

"Arthur!" Merlin said, and Arthur turned to see Merlin standing, as well, and pointing toward the far wall, behind the columns.

It was difficult to see anything at first, what with people screaming and running in all directions, each attempting to find the fastest, safest way from the battle – but then he saw what Merlin had. Two men, standing stock still amidst the chaos, bows pulled taut before them. He turned to his men. "Get them out of here!"

Elyan nearly picked one of the elderly druids up when he started to fall, but their progress toward the side doors was slow. Arthur hurried forward as the archers aimed. "Go! Go!"

Gwaine stepped forward, slashing as the first arrow flew, barely managing to block the strike with his sword. The arrow clanged so loudly the sound momentarily broke over the screaming and stomping feet. Percival used his hulking body as a shield to protect the druids.

Arthur jumped in front of them all, his eyes on the second archer. He rushed forward, even as Merlin hurried to his side. The man's arrowhead aimed after the retreating sorcerers for a short moment, before his eyes narrowed and he turned his arrow to Arthur. The assassin let it fly.

"Arthur!" Merlin grabbed his arm, perhaps to pull him to safety, but there was no chance – but then Merlin yanked him back, his other hand in front of them both, and shouted,  _"_ _Áscilde!"_  Merlin's eyes burned bright, a fire of their own. Something shimmered almost yellow in front of them both. The arrow bounced harmlessly off. Arthur could hardly see past the glimmering light, but he could see the archer freeze. He heard someone curse and start screaming about abominations and enchantments, and he saw Leon take the chance to, in the man's distraction, knock the obnoxious noble unconscious. That didn't stop Leon, however, from staring in horror, as well.

The rest of the room – what was left of it – began to notice, as well. Even as Merlin carefully lowered his shield and let his magic fade, his glowing gaze calming to that river blue, people stopped running and screaming and stared. Merlin's gaze scanned the crowd, clearly searching for more threats until he, too, seemed to take in the looks of Arthur's – of  _their_  – people. Then he hunched his shoulders.

"Grab Sir Duncan and escort him and his would-be assassins to the dungeons," Arthur said, barking his orders to Leon, who seemed most likely to step forward and skewer Merlin where he stood. Leon hesitated. He failed to heed Arthur's orders. His lead knight denied him. The remaining men and women in the room tensed. Merlin froze where he stood.

Just when it all seemed about to explode, Gwaine rushed past Arthur and grabbed Merlin's slack hand. "Merlin! You have  _magic?_  You jerk, how could you hide that from me? You mean to tell me you let me get caught by those maids the other day? How could you?" He actually gave Merlin a pouting face. One of Arthur's most trusted knights.

The reminder of Gwaine's even less respectable streak through the castle, the serving women screeching and throwing pots and utensils and even a bag of flour after the nearly-naked knight, broke the tension that had nearly escalated into a battle. The nobles and citizens seemed confused, and a few still scared, but Arthur's knights no longer held the hilts of their swords. Instead their hands hovered, hesitating again.

"Of course he didn't," Arthur said, quickly moving to Merlin's side and swatting the man's hand from his husband. "His magic isn't for your stupid antics."

Gwaine lifted his chin. "There's nothing more important than the natural instinct to mate! Right, Merlin?" Gwaine actually waggled his eyebrows at his king.

Merlin blushed horribly. His gaze flickered out toward the people, all of them clearly waiting to attack him on Arthur's first order.

Finally Arthur understood why Gwaine was being such a pig in front of all and sundry. Merlin was clearly humiliated, and worried. Gwaine, taller, broader, was nearly bullying him. But Merlin did nothing to defend himself, or to push Gwaine away. Arthur decided to not send the man to the dungeons, despite how very much he loved just the thought of doing so. He settled on a venomous glare instead. "One more word, and you'll be sleeping in the stocks."

Gwaine shrugged and backed away. "Fine,  _Your Highness_. But he owes me help with my next project."

"Merlin is not wasting his time or his magic with your ridiculous pranks." He looked toward his people. "Well? Get them out of here before they wake up! Confiscate their weapons. We'll see if we can't find where those came from. When they wake up, inform me. I'll wish to speak with them. Best to nip this in the bud." Arthur turned to the druids, none of whom had quite managed to get out, though the one nearly thrown over Elyan's shoulder had gotten close. Though they all remained in the room, none seemed to have been harmed.

People finally started to move; the guards who had attempting to safely escort the people from the throne room turned and picked up the archers and their bows, separating them immediately. Duke Duncan was also carried and taken from the room, though by knights Leon called over and not by the man himself. Arthur caught the tension in Merlin's back and shoulders as Leon turned to them. "Sire, perhaps it's for the best if we complete this at some other time."

Arthur's lips thinned. "That should be up to the druids."

He turned to them. They still seemed slightly hunched and very shaken. The one in Elyan's arms wiggled, then struck the knight on his shoulder. Elyan quickly put him down. He moved to stand before his constituents, running his hands over his robes. "We will proceed," the elderly man said, his eyes bright. Even though he spoke without even looking at the others in his small group, none spoke out against his words. None even seemed surprised or upset.

Arthur nodded. "The scroll."

He wouldn't have expected such diligence in the man, yet Gwaine actually pulled the thing from the back of his belt and quickly handed it over. He sent Arthur a beaming smile. It wasn't one of his usual snarky grins, but a true one. Arthur tilted his head in acknowledgment, even as Leon and the council shuffled their feet and threw back their shoulders.

"Sire."

"Your Highness."

"I advise against this."

"Enough," Arthur said, not even bothering to raise his voice. "I have known of Merlin's magic for quite some time. He has had it since before he came to Camelot. Since his birth, if his mother is to believed – and she is." He only looked to them long enough to glare, then held the scroll out to the druids, even as the rest of the people in the room shifted and sidled as if they were a bunch of ducks let loose in a new pond. The paper crinkled as it passed hands. The older man – his name was Loheim – quickly rolled it open. "Take your time to ensure it meets with your approval. We will sign it when you're ready."

Leon cleared his throat. "Sire?"

"Merlin is the same man he was yesterday, and the day before. You never feared him at my side then." Arthur stared the man down, and he had the grace to falter and flush. The council started whining. Arthur glared them silent once more. "That is  _enough_. I will hear no more of this."

Merlin pushed lightly against his shoulder. "Arthur," he whispered.

"Shut up, Merlin. And stop causing me trouble."

For some reason, the man actually did. For about half an hour. Then he spilled the damn inkwell when they moved to sign the bill into action, leaving a black inkblot on the bottom of the scroll.


	3. Chapter 3

The evening had been tense, as Arthur's council members all sat hissing at one another, glaring up at Arthur and Merlin as the druids dined with them. It had taken a very long time, back when he'd first called the druids to his kingdom, to get used to their name for Merlin. They called him such throughout the dinner. Emrys. They spoke of destiny and bold acts and sacrifice, and then called Arthur by their special title for him, as well – the Once and Future King. Longer, at least, and fancier. Yet the name for Merlin seemed special, somehow. A specific name, not just a title.

They spoke quietly amongst themselves, making it plain that neither the council members nor the knights were welcome in the conversation. Arthur had barely kept himself from standing tall in the middle of the banquet hall and announcing that the next man to stare at Merlin like he was ensorcelling their king into ruining his kingdom were going to be exiled from the damned city. They had all been behind his changes just yesterday. After all the work to get them there, they'd fallen back to suspicion and unease the instant they'd learned. Just as Arthur had feared.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Merlin said now, as Arthur stomped into their rooms and threw the door closed the instant Merlin finished stepping inside. The fool stood with his big, wide eyes and his tiny frame and his hands twisted together, fingers curling back and forth around each other, and Arthur couldn't take it anymore. He rounded on him.

"Do not apologize for them!" His hand actually slashed the air. Likely, if he had magic, he would have just made the table beside him explode. "Do not speak as if you've done some grievous wrong by defending me. Yes, perhaps it was foolish. You know very well I'm perfectly capable of defending myself." Arthur ignored the look from Merlin that blatantly said he didn't have such faith in Arthur's abilities, in fact, and did he want another rendition of the number of times Merlin had needed to save him? Arthur would not answer that look, because no, he absolutely did not. "But the one thing you should never feel guilty for is protecting myself or my kingdom."

The rudely sardonic look slipped away, to be replaced with a vaguely lost expression. "Then what are you angry about?"

Arthur groaned and slapped a hand to his face. Sometimes he could just strangle the man. "Them," he answered. "What else? I'm furious with how they handled you, handled the druids, and are now likely attempting to handle me." He sucked in a sharp breath. "Of course, the people have already accepted the changes, and they've accepted you. Despite your simpleton antics."

"Or because of them?" Merlin said, because of course Merlin had to be contrary on even such a simple issue as this.

"Yes, Merlin," he said. He let his hand fall away to exacerbate the roll of his eyes. "Your country boy foolishness has won them over. That's it."

"Well, at least I'm not a prat. Unlike some people. Maybe your people prefer a little simplicity, sire."

Arthur stalked over to Merlin. The man was tall, and he'd only managed to grow even more. Arthur had complained on more than one occasion about Merlin being able to stand taller than him. Merlin, of course, made several comments about Arthur's ego weighing him down. It made it difficult to loom over the man now, but damned if he didn't manage it. Merlin, however, was anything but cowed. He actually smirked at Arthur. "I have it on good authority that my people love me."

Merlin's smirk softened a bit at the edges. "That they do." Merlin twined his arms around Arthur's neck. He pressed his lips lightly to Arthur's. "Very much."

Arthur ducked his head into Merlin's neck to hide his grin. He burned the smile into Merlin's neck with a quick suck, just for good measure. "I was angry a moment ago," Arthur said. "Righteously so."

"I'd prefer you be something else." Merlin didn't go any farther, however, ready, perhaps, for Arthur to pull away and rant some more. But really, what was he to do? The druids were being guarded by their closest friends. If anything happened, he was certain Percival or Elyan would bring a message to him. The council had been warned to keep to themselves. The people had turned in for the night, their gazes drifting as if they'd stepped into a new, unknown world. Nothing more would be done these next few nights. All he could do was continue what he'd been doing. The agreements had been made, the scrolls signed. The people would just have to learn that Merlin and the druids were not sinister merely because they had magic.

That decided, Arthur pushed Merlin's bangs from his face and pulled him into a kiss. Merlin grunted in surprise, even as those lips opened for him, even as that tongue met with his own. The heat tore through him, as it always did, the suddenness so complete he'd once wondered if Merlin were using his magic to hurry him up.

He led Merlin to his bed blindly, hands scrabbling at Merlin's shirt, even knowing it would get stuck on that stupid neckerchief. Merlin's hands fumbled at his pants. When Arthur twisted them around and pushed Merlin back until his knees buckled over the edge of the bed, Merlin's fingers dug into the cloth of his pants hard enough to make them rip. The idiot's grip forced them both to fall, Arthur giving up on Merlin's shirt to keep himself from landing his full weight on top of Merlin.

Merlin's eyes were nearly as round as his ears. That alone might have been annoying, but then the fool started laughing. He had to pull his arms out of his sleeves in order to get his hands free enough to get at the tie of his neckerchief and unknot it. Arthur grabbed the offending thing from Merlin's hands the instant he had it free and tossed it carelessly behind him.

"I have to clean that up later!" Merlin huffed.

"Not if you marry me," Arthur said, leaning down to attack that long line of pale neck now that it was available. Merlin groaned as Arthur bit at his pulse.

"Wh-what?" Merlin's hands fumbled at Arthur's hips, but he didn't try to lift him off.

"Marry me. There's no point in waiting any longer. Everyone knows you have magic. They know you'd even expose yourself for me. And anyone who's known me for any length of time knows my intentions with you. You even sat in the chair."

Merlin moaned. "And what," he managed on a gasp, "is your intention?"

Arthur nipped his way up Merlin's jaw to his ridiculous ears and licked. Merlin nearly launched off the bed at the erogenous touch. "Marriage. Clearly. Do try to keep up, Merlin." He breathed the last into the man's ears and felt him tremble from head to toe. He leaned away long enough to pull Merlin's scratchy shirt off. He found those big, blue eyes on him when he finished. They sparked for a moment when Arthur placed his hand on Merlin's stomach. The muscles beneath his fingers jumped.

Merlin's breath caught in his chest. His eyes glimmered again. Arthur felt himself being pulled down, oh so slowly, to Merlin's body. He let them be pressed together, cloth to skin, breath to breath, and sucked Merlin in for another kiss. While the man was distracted, he curled his fingers down to those jutting hips and into the sides of that bony rear. Merlin lifted up to assist automatically. Arthur let the man fall back to the bed and put his hands to the task of unknotting the string of Merlin's pants.

Either the touch of Arthur's intent got Merlin motivated or he was simply sick of not feeling Arthur's skin, but in either case, those eyes flashed pure gold and those full lips pursed. _"Ábiraþ cláþ,"_ Merlin said, the sound like air through grassy reeds, and Arthur's clothing disappeared. The first time Merlin had used this spell, he had freaked over the loss of good clothing, only to find them shoved in the corner of the room. Now he didn't waste any time, merely pulled Merlin forward until they were both lying properly on the bed, and when he finished, he celebrated the victory with another press against Merlin's form, this time getting to feel Merlin's skin along his own, Merlin's nipples on his chest and dick against his hip. Merlin spread his legs and shifted until their dicks scraped against one another. Even through the dry friction, he groaned and threw his head back, exposing that throat again. Arthur took full advantage, as any good warrior would.

By now, he knew every last place where a good lick would make Merlin whine and arch his back; he knew where a careful touch would make Merlin shiver and gasp. Like a symphony, he led Merlin forward. Merlin, even writhing like a foal, gangly limbs crashing into the bed again and again, managed to get his legs around Arthur and pump up in a parody of a rhythm, forcing their cocks to rub together and retreat, heat and cold, heat and cold, until Arthur gave up and pulled back, moving Merlin's legs to his shoulders.

Merlin's hair was a wild spray of black against his white sheets, his eyes shining like candles. Arthur groaned and took that mouth again as he felt Merlin grope along the edge of the bed for the small stand. He twisted his mouth and nipped on that bottom lip and heard something clatter to the floor. If he weren't facing some sexual frustration, he would have laughed.

Merlin cursed and reached for another long second, Arthur not letting him go, before finally pulling his mouth free. "Arthur," he groaned.

"Mmm?" Arthur spit into his hand. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would take the edge off. He slicked his dick, then spat again, this time wrapping his fingers around Merlin's. Merlin's length was a bit longer than his, but thinner, and had a sensitivity to the underside while Arthur nearly jumped every time Merlin played with his head. Arthur used the knowledge now and skimmed his thumb over the bottom of Merlin's cock. The man moaned, arched up, and flopped back, even as one of those flailing limbs attempted to grab Arthur's and reciprocate. He staved the attempt off by grabbing his cock and wrapping it and Merlin's both together. Another groan, and that flailing limb gave up and lay clenched in a fist.

Arthur took it slow, because he wanted to see it, and it usually happened only when Arthur took Merlin. For it to happen, he needed to shatter Merlin. So he took his time, playing at the tip of their cocks with his thumb, holding fast when he reached the base. Merlin made little noises, jutted his hips to try to get Arthur to move. When it failed, he flopped back again and amped up those noises. Gasps, grunts, whimpers, and finally, a long, low whine, peppered with pleas and far less intelligible ramblings. Only then did Arthur pick up the pace, only slightly, even as he sweat and his body thrummed with the need to push in and hammer away. After going a bit faster, he slowed again, until Merlin arched helplessly and pleaded, "please, please, please," over and over again, but never forced his hand, never used his magic to take Arthur's power from him. Finally Arthur pumped hard and fast, his gaze strong on Merlin's face as that sparking candlelight burst into firelight, then glowed like the sun.

Merlin gave a wordless shout and came. Those eyes were liquid gold. Arthur felt the wash of magic all over his skin, in tingles and prickles, a power that once again left him without breath, that washed through him like a storm yet left him dry and clean and whole. More like a warm breeze than a tornado, it almost curled around him, as warm and welcoming as the sun itself.

He closed his eyes and let it wash over him, let it sweep him into his own orgasm. This was what he'd wanted. This was what had proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Merlin's magic was never to be feared. When it touched him like sunlight, moved through him like water, cleansed him like love, how could it be anything but? It never, not once, hurt him. If anything, it felt like a shield. It was Merlin at his most vulnerable, the very core of him. And the core of him wanted to protect Arthur. Wanted to be near him. Inside him. How could any part of it be evil?

Merlin's magic swept through the room and finally dissipated, and with it went the tension in Merlin's muscles. He flopped bonelessly back on the bed and gusted out a long sigh that ended on Arthur's name. Arthur moved around on the bed, grabbing the side of the sheet and scrubbing himself mostly clean, then curling the corner and doing the same for Merlin. Despite his obvious exhaustion, Merlin managed to grumble incoherently, then say, "Making a mess again."

Arthur tossed the corner aside and crawled overtop Merlin. "Then marry me."

Merlin cracked open one eye. "We have to wait. We had to before, right? Because of my magic. And now, with all the problems I made..."

"You saved my life. Granted, you were your usual foolish, reckless self going about it." Merlin grumbled again, and that one eye narrowed. "But the only issue is with the council. Nothing could set a good example about magic better than the king being rescued by it the same day it's legalized." He nuzzled into Merlin's neck. "We can work through this. It will take time, but that's fine. We'll always have people accusing you of enchanting me, anyway."

Merlin grunted as he lifted his arms and wrapped them around Arthur's shoulders. "You're the one who said we should wait."

Arthur bit the man, just a bit. They were both far too sated to start over again so soon, but the nibble did work to make Merlin jump and yelp, so it was still a success. "I know that. I'm king. I am allowed the prerogative to change my mind."

Merlin snorted. "Of course."

"Is that a yes? Or will you deny your king?"

"It's a 'we'll wait.' Just until this calms down a little. A month or two? And then we can marry, if you still insist."

Arthur reared up. "I will," he said, and held Merlin's face lightly between his palms.

Merlin grinned. "Then I'll be waiting, Your Highness."

Arthur pulled Merlin close, chastely kissed his lips, and huffed out an annoyed sound when Merlin, without moving so much as a finger, pulled the covers over the both of them in silent, imperial command. He did, however, pull back just in time to watch the embers of that golden fire burn in those bright eyes.


End file.
